


the greatest love story this town had ever seen

by toastweasel



Series: The Gallaro Equation [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Hate Crimes, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Lesbian Romance, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, Racist Language, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-22 16:09:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13767720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toastweasel/pseuds/toastweasel
Summary: Andrea Duvaul is the image of the perfect Southern girl—blonde hair, blue eyes, church on Sundays, the preacher’s daughter. Jack Eun-Li, aspiring mechanic, general rabble-rouser, and the daughter of Filipino and Korean immigrants, is not. Fate, and a fight, draw them together. Fed by righteous indignation and a burgeoning romance, they set off, two girls against the world—and in 1960s North Carolina, it might as well be just that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You all have seen Jack and Andrea flit in and out of my stories, so I figured it was about time to tell theirs. I wasn't originally going to tell theirs first, but then the plot bunnies got a goin' and I just had to yield to their expert advice...
> 
> Jack and Andrea's story is one of love and overcoming adversity. I can't promise it's going to be an easy read, but I will promise that it is worth it. Also, these two are so damn cute and in love that it will probably give you cavities. The title of their story comes from LANCO's song 'Greatest Love Story' and the song is so perfectly them it hurts.
> 
> Before we begin:
> 
> WARNING: This work is set in small town 1960s North Carolina, three years after the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and two years before Stonewall. This work WILL contains triggering language, including racial and homophobic slurs, and depictions of hate crimes and violence. This is, unfortunately, what intersectional queer history is. it's painful to read, it's painful to write, and it's so goddamn painful to research, but we have to remember our past in order to understand how far we've come and why we will never go back.
> 
> Now that you are properly warned... this starts in Fall 1967. Both Jack and Andrea are 16. Enjoy!

**1967**  
Gastonia, North Carolina

“Fucking chink!”

“Get back here you little faggot!”

Andrea Duvaul whirled around from where she was talking with her friends by the flag pole right before morning bell just in time to see David Johnson, the quarterback of the football team, deliver a mean right hook to a small Asian boy at least a foot shorter than him. Not an Asian boy, she realized with a start—it was Jackie Eun-Li, a girl from her homeroom class.

David’s punch would have taken out anyone else, but Jackie was made of tough stuff. She rolled with the punch and came back swinging. Despite the fact she now had a rather spectacularly gushing cut in her left eyebrow from the punch, she was grinning like a feral cat as she launched herself at the quarterback.

It might have been a fair fight, had it not been for Mark Pinkers.

He grabbed Jackie by the jacket and ripped her off David. He slammed his fist into her stomach, then hauled off with his foot against her side as she doubled over in pain. David joined in, and Andrea knew in a second Jackie would not be getting up if they kept going.

“Hey!” she shouted, shoving her books into the hands of her startled friends then running towards the fight. “Leave her alone!”

The two boys looked up in surprise—nobody interfered in their torturing of Jackie. Especially not pretty girls. Both of them were completely unprepared for a tiny blonde from the cheerleading team to come charging across the courtyard and promptly kick David Johnson in the balls.

He howled and doubled over, clutching his junk. Mark stumbled back in shock. “H-Hey!”

Andrea whirled and started to advance on him, but was stopped by the booming voice of the principal from the direction of the stairs.

“Duvaul! What in the blazes do you think you’re doing?!”

Andrea turned to him, incensed. The principal was a short, stickily built man with a thick neck and even thicker arms—he was known throughout the system for being able to rip apart fighters with his bare hands. However there were no fighters to rip apart here. David was still crumpled and whimpering, and Jackie was just starting to uncurl from the ball she had protectively curled herself up into.

“Mr. Simmons, these two were trying to—”

“I don’t care,” Mr. Simmons barked, cutting off her complaint. “I want all of you in my office. Actually, no—Duvaul, Eun-Li, I want you in my office. Johnson, Pinkers, you go to Mr. White’s office.”

Andrea scowled. Mark hauled David off the ground and the two of them traipsed off up the stairs and into the school. Jackie gingerly sat up on the concrete, wincing and holding a hand to her ribs. “Fuck…”

“Get up, Eun-Li, you aren’t hurt that bad.”

Jackie’s eyes narrowed at Mr. Simmons’ derisive tone. Andrea offered her a hand. Jackie eyed her for a second, then hesitantly took it. Andrea hauled her to her feet.

“Can you walk?”

Jackie took a few steps; while they were clearly painful, she was thankfully still mobile. Andrea trailed after her hobbling form and took the stairs slowly behind her. When they got to the doors, she held them open for her. They paraded down past the secretaries in the office, who looked equal parts exasperated at Jackie’s bloody state and surprised by Andrea’s presence in the office. Mr. Simmons unceremoniously pointed them into his office, then disappeared down the hall to Mr. White’s office.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Andrea grabbed tissues from the box on his desk and pressed them to the cut gushing blood all over Jackie’s previously nice white shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“Applying pressure so it stops bleeding. I won’t know how bad it is until it stops bleeding.”

“Head wounds bleed like a bitch,” Jackie said, and reached for more tissues to mop up the worst of the blood on her face and neck.

“At least your pants and jacket are black.”

“Shirt is a bust, though.” Jackie sighed and held up the tissues to inspect the blood soaking them. “It was brand new.”

Andrea held up the trash can when she was done so she could toss the bloody tissues away. “That’s a bummer.” She paused. “Who do you think you are, anyway, coming to school all greased up in a shirt and pants while the rest of us have to wear skirts?”

Jack frowned and opened her mouth to respond but the door banged open before she could respond. Mr. Simmons barreled in, red in the face and irate.

“Thought you’d be smart with Johnson and Pinkers, did you?”

“What?” Jackie exclaimed, turning her attention away from Andrea and towards the angry principal. “No! I didn’t do anything!”

Mr. Simmons looked like he found that hard to believe.

“I didn’t!” Jackie said again. “I just suggested to Mark that he clean his windshield as I went by and they flipped their wig at me!”

“So you didn’t say that was why he couldn’t ‘nail a chick’?”

Jackie shrugged. “It’s a nice Mustang, but he’s not gettin’ any chicks in that thing until he gives it a good scrubbin’.”

Andrea hid a smile.

Mr. Simmons did not find it as funny as she did—he practically exploded. “That boy has more talent and skill in him than you have in your little yellow finger! He’s got fantastic grades and is on track to go to Raleigh on a full ride, which is more to say then you.”

“He’s only got good grades because he cheats on tests and the teachers look the other way because he’s a football player."

“He’s a star student. You show up to my school in pants and make trouble!”

“Can we just skip to the part where you give me detention for a week?” Jackie asked, irritable. “I’ve got a test in third period.”

“No you don’t. I’m suspendin’ you.”

“For what?!” Andrea exclaimed before Jackie could reply. “She did nothin’ wrong! She was clearly the victim!”

“Be quiet, Miss Duvaul, this doesn’t concern you.”

“Like hell it does!” the blonde snapped, dropping her hand from Jack’s eyebrow. “You’ve got a student bleedin’ in your office and you’re suspending _her_ because she told Mark Pinkers the truth about his stupid car!”

“Miss Duvaul, if you don’t be quiet, I’ll give you detention on top of callin’ your parents.”

“Fine,” Andrea said defiantly. “Give me detention. I’ll serve it with her.”

“Wh-What?” Jackie asked, stunned, the look appearing all the more comical as she had now taken up the job of holding the tissues to her brow.

“You want to be a martyr so much?” Mr. Simmons spat nastily, “Fine. You’ll serve two weeks detention for fightin’.”

Andrea nodded primly. “Good.”

“Miss Eun-Li, you’re suspended for a week for repeat offenses of fightin’.”

Jack’s nostril’s flared but she said nothing more than a sullen, “Fine.”

“Afterwards, you’ll serve two weeks of detention.”

“Fine.”

“I’m calling your mother to pick you up.”

 _That_ make Jackie pale. “I-I can walk home.”

“No, I think your mother should pick you up and see how you come to school every day.”

It suddenly occurred to Andrea that Jackie’s parents didn’t know how their daughter dressed for school. Did they not see her get ready every morning? Her mom always saw her off to the bus with her lunch and a kiss. Did Jackie’s mother not do that?

“Miss Duvaul, I’m calling your mother, too.”

Andrea held her chin high. “So call her. It was the right thing to do.”

Mr. Simmons scowled. “Miss Eun-Li, go sit in the office. Miss Duvaul, to class. Report to the library this afternoon for detention.”

Andrea rolled her eyes but got up and walked out into the office with Jackie. Instead of going to class, Andrea took a seat next to her in one of the ancient padded chairs and reached for the handful of tissues pressed to her face. “Let me see.”

Jackie obediently peeled the tissues off her eyebrow. Andrea tsk’d softly as it revealed the cut; it was deeper than she had initially believed, but the blood was coagulating nicely.

“Is it bad?”

“It’s pretty deep,” Andrea said softly, not daring to touch it directly. “You should go to the doctor and get stitches.”

“Nah, my Ma’ll do it.” A pause. “Thanks, by the way, for in there. Not many people stick up for me.”

“Nobody should get beaten up,” Andrea replied firmly, “or get called racial slurs.”

“But faggot’ll do?” Jackie asked chillily.

“…Nobody should get called faggot either.”

Jackie sighed and slumped back into her chair, sagging back into the worn fabric. “You’re gonna pay for what you did, you know. You’re gonna be a faggot chink lover until we graduate.”

Andrea shrugged. “I’d rather be a faggot chink lover than a bully.”

Jackie’s head snapped towards her; after a moment the corner of her mouth crooked up in a cheeky little grin. “So the perfect and kind Southern church girl isn’t just a look.”

Andrea gave her a withering stare. “Bite me.”

Jackie let out a bark of laughter loud enough that the secretary shot her a dirty look. The mirth was short lived, though, because a moment later the other girl sucked in a sharp breath and grabbed her side. “Ow…fuck…”

The blonde’s brow knitted in concern. “You really should get your ribs looked at, too…”

“I’ll be fine,” Jackie told her, then turned and looked her in the eye. “It doesn’t matter, anyway.”

“It doesn’t matter? What if he broke a rib?”

“I’ve broken a rib before, and this doesn’t feel like it.” Jackie adjusted painfully in her seat and let out a long, slow breath. “He just got it real good when he kicked it.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” The other girl sighed. “Oh well. Shit happens. The good news is you won’t be alone. We’ll get shunned together.”

Andrea shrugged. “I really don’t think it’s going to be that bad.”

Jackie snorted. “If you say so. It’s just a good thing you can scrap, cuz it’s a rough life on the bottom.”

“Oh, don’t you worry. I can take care of myself.”

.

.

.

Jackie was right; Andrea’s excommunication from society at Frank L. Ashley High School was swift and harsh. Word had spread fast, especially since the fight had happened in the crowded high school courtyard right before first bell. If people had not seen it happen, by fourth period they had heard about it.

Andrea was first shunned from her table with the cheerleaders at the cafeteria. Everyone else she tried to sit with got up and moved, leaving her alone. With her nose in the air, Angela got up from the table and went to go eat her lunch in the library.

When she got home from detention, her mother and three brothers were nowhere to be found despite how close it was to dinner. She figured her brothers might still be at work at the Firestone factory, but her mother had no excuse.

Andrea took off her shoes in the mudroom, then set her textbooks and school bag down on the kitchen table. “Momma, I’m home!”

Her mother came into the house from out back with a laundry basket on her hip. She obviously had just picked the clothes off the line. “You’ve got some explainin’ to do, young miss.”

Andrea swallowed suddenly; her mother did not sound happy.

“What this call I got from Mr. Simmons today sayin’ you got into a fight today?”

“Mark and David were beatin’ up Jackie Eun-Li again, Momma. I made them stop.”

“By kickin’ them in the privates?”

“They were beatin’ her real bad,” the teenager’s voice was dangerously close to a whine. “It was two against one! They split her eyebrow and were kickin’ her in the ribs. By the time I left the office she had a real shiner formin’.”

Her mother came into the kitchen and put the laundry basket down next to her books on the table, then reached into it to fold them. When she finally spoke, her voice was careful and measured. “Mr. Simmons says she was sassin’ them.”

“Since when does sassin’ require a beatin’? Robert sasses you all the time.”

Her mother gave her a flat, level stare. Andrea tilted her chin defiantly. Finally, her mother sighed. “Was it worth it, gettin’ two weeks detention for some girl you don’t know?”

“Yes, ma’am…and I’d do it again.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.” Her mother turned back to the laundry and kept folding. “Your Daddy will be home soon. Go take your books upstairs then help me with these clothes. Dinner ain’t gonna fix itself.”

.

.

.

Her Daddy wasn’t exactly happy that she had gotten in trouble for fighting, but was happy she had stood up for someone being bullied. “Jesus would have been proud,” he said with a little self-righteous nod that came with being a pastor in the South. “Just next time, no fightin’, baby girl. Violence is never the answer.”

Andrea was not sure about that. It sure had stopped Mark and David, although what she had gotten back in retribution might not have been worth it in the eyes of others. She came in the second day to find someone had written ‘fag lover’ on her locker. By the third day her coach had pulled her from homeroom to tell her she was off the cheerleading team.

Despite it all, Andrea kept her head held high and continued to eat her lunch in the library. She knew she had done the right thing. Detention wasn’t even so bad; she just did her homework there instead of at home.

She decided to do something nice for herself on Friday afternoon. After detention, instead of going home, Andrea went to Main Street.

It was not a far walk from the school, and it was a nice day. She had finished all of her homework in detention so she had no books to weigh her down as she walked along towards the center of town. Many of her classmates were out and about; date night in Gastonia took most to Main Street. For Andrea, all that brought her to Main Street was the craving for a milkshake.

The lunch counter at Woolworths was packed with people getting a meal after their shift at the factories or getting things for home. As she waited in line for her turn to order, a familiar voice said, “Hey stranger. How you holdin’ up?”

Andrea glanced behind her to see Jackie, dressed in work clothes, standing behind her. She had clearly just come from Firestone; her hands were still stained with the ghosts of grease, and her shoulder length hair was pulled into two pleated pigtails and stuffed under a bandana.

“Jackie!” Andrea said in surprise.  What are you doing here?”

“Gettin’ a snack before I go out,” she replied, stuffing her hands in her back pockets. “You?”

“Gettin’ a milkshake…” Andrea’s gaze tracked over Jackie’s face; the shiner David had given her was yellowing, but there was a new mottling around her wrists that concerned her. “What happened to your arms?”

“Oh.” Jackie looked down at her skin as if seeing the bruising for the first time. “Just…work stuff. Luggin’ around a lot of heavy stuff this week.”

Andrea didn’t believe her; Jackie couldn’t meet her eyes when she said it. Still, she didn’t know Jackie well enough to pry. Instead she nodded to her outfit and asked, “You picked up extra shifts at the factory?”

“Yup. What else was I gonna do this week, sit around on my ass?” Jackie laughed. “Gotta save money for my truck. At this rate, I’ll have enough bread for one by next month!”

 _‘What kind of girl saved up money for a truck?’_ Andrea wondered as she moved up in line to order at the counter, but knew better than to ask the question aloud. Instead she ordered and paid for her milkshake, then waited politely as Jackie negotiated a sandwich and pop.

Jackie shoved her wallet back in her back pocket when she was done and leaned on an empty seat to wait. “So,” she started, obviously intent on continuing their conversation, “how’s martyrdom?”

Andrea frowned. “How do you know about that?”

“I work with your brothers.”

“Oh. Right.” Andrea scuffed the tip of her Mary Jane against the checkered linoleum floor. “It’s been…lonely. Nobody talks to me anymore. I got kicked off the cheerleading team and I have to eat lunch in the library.”

Jackie made a face. “That sucks. Sorry that all happened because of me.”

“Don’t be. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

Jackie grinned and nudged her side. “Well then, don’t worry about being lonely anymore. It’s Friday so I’ll be back next week. We can eat lunch and suffer together.”

The blonde smiled softly. “Thanks, Jackie.”

“No biggie. We gotta stick together now.”

Andrea’s milkshake came up and a moment later, so did Jackie’s sandwich and coke. As they collected them, Jackie slid onto one of the stools and asked, “You wanna sit with me?”

“Sure.” Andrea sat at the empty stool beside her. Jackie took a swig of her coke. Andrea busied herself mixing her whipped cream into her shake as Jackie took a ravenous bite of her sandwich.

“Sorry, I haven’t eaten since this mornin’,” Jackie said after her third or fourth mouthful, wiping mayonnaise from the corner of her mouth sheepishly. “I forgot my lunch at home an’ my break isn’t long enough to run home n’go get it.”

“It’s okay,” Andrea replied genially. She sipped at her milkshake. “How are you going to catch up on the work you’re missing?”

Jackie took a swig another drink from her pop before responding. “Well, I’m takin’ wood shop and auto-shop, so that’s two that don’t really need anythin’ done.”

Andrea’s eyes widened. All she knew of Jackie’s schedule was that she was in homeroom with her; beyond that, she rarely saw her. But for a _girl_ to be in wood shop? Not to mention _auto_ _shop?_   She was flabbergasted. “How’d you get into those classes?”

Jackie winked and elbowed her in the side conspiratorially. “Mr. P. owes me one.”

Mr. P. was the auto shop teacher.

“He does?”

Jackie nodded. “I helped him win a race last year.”

Andrea crooked an eyebrow. “…So he owes you?”

“Mmhmm…Well, it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“How so?”

“Well, I found out he was street racing illegally sooo…” Jackie grinned cheekily over her sandwich. “Yeah.”

Andrea choked on her milkshake. “ _Street racing_?”

“Mmm, yup.”

“Mr. P. _street races?”_

“Oh yeah. I slipped the good stuff in his engine right before he went. He won. Afterwards, I made him a deal. He let me into the class and I didn’t tell anybody he was racin’ his Challenger amped up with jet fuel.”

“You _blackmailed_ Mr. P?”

Jackie shrugged and mimed zipping her lips and throwing away the key.

“…I don’t want to know.”

Jackie laughed.

Andrea frowned. “What about your other classes? Are you blackmailing them?”

“I wish.” Jackie took the second to last bite of her sandwich before responding. “Since it was a week-long suspension they hadta give me my work in advance. I did it all on Monday.”

“Oh. Cool.” Andrea watched Jackie stuff the last bit of her sandwich in her mouth and wash it down with her coke. “Why are you blackmailing Mr. P anyway?”

“To get into shop, duh.”

“Why didn’t you just apply like everyone else? Sometimes there are girls in there.”

Jackie got a serious expression and leaned over, as if taking on a conspirator. “Look. Could _you_ ever get into shop?”

“…Probably not.”

“Exactly. It’s hard enough to do guy stuff when you’re a chick. When you’re a chick _and_ chink? Forget it.” Jackie leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest; Andrea thought Jackie looked particularly guy-like in that moment. “It sucks, but you gotta do what you gotta do. It’s what makes it fair.”

Andrea was not exactly certain it made it _fair_ but she guessed she saw Jackie’s point. “How’d you get your job at the factory, then? You do mechanical work, not work the looms. My brothers told me.”

“My Pop pulled me in.”

“And they don’t care that you’re a girl?”

Jackie shrugged. “I do good work. And when I do good work, their machines are working, which makes them money. They can’t _not_ afford to have me.”

Andrea nodded and sipped at her milkshake. It was almost done. Jackie played with her bottle, sloshing around the little bit of pop that was left in the bottom. “Are you going to the…car racing stuff tonight?”

Jackie nodded. “Yup. I’m gettin’ picked up at home in an hour so I gotta bail soon. You?”

The blonde shrugged. “Well I don’t have anybody to hang with anymore so I’m probably just going to go home and catch Andy Griffith instead.”

“Mmm..." The other girl looked pensive for a second, then light up. "Hey, you wanna come to the track with me instead?”

“The track?”

“Well, it’s not really a track…more like a road…” Jackie trailed off and looked down at her soda bottle, then glanced back up at her hopefully from under her lashes. “It’s pretty bitchin’. You wanna come?”

“I don’t think so.” Jackie pouted; Andrea couldn’t help but feel bad. “Maybe next time.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that.” Jackie grinned cheekily and clinked the bottom of her bottle against the top Andrea’s milkshake glass, then drained it. Andrea winced at the hard ring that came from the clash of glass of glass.

“Gotta split,” Jackie said with a grin, sliding off her stool with her empty bottle. “I’ll see you on Monday?”

Andrea nodded.

“Alrighty. See ya then.”

Andrea watched Jackie go, hands stuffed in her pockets, completely oblivious to the glares of the Woolworths patrons who also watched her as she went.

 

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

Jackie strolled into home room Monday, cool as she pleased, like she had not just been suspended for a week and now faced two more weeks of after school detention. Jackie seemed to be in good spirits and health; her eye only showed a hint of the shiner that David had given her the week before, and the mottling around her wrists was fading. She was wearing a dress and cardigan, which Andrea had seen her in a hundred times before, but now that she had seen Jackie in pants and a shirt, she could not imagine her in anything else.

Jackie caught her eye and grinned, then sauntered over and leaned against the desk. “How’s it hangin’?”

Andrea looked her up and down. “I’m alright. You?”

Jackie shrugged. “Good as it’s gonna be, I guess. Just ready to get this shit over with.”

“You have shop or auto today?”

“Auto,” Jackie replied with an easy grin. “So that’ll be fun, at least.”

“At least you’ll have fun. I’ve just got Algebra Two.”

Jackie made a face. “I hate math.”

Andrea figured that that was about right. Jackie did not really seem like a _schoolwork person_. She was a lot like Andrea’s brothers; they’d rather mess around with the cars or with their little projects than read a book or crunch some numbers.

Andrea had never been inclined. Not because she was not allowed to, but just because she did not enjoy it. Her brothers and father had tried to get her hands dirty, but she had never had the patience. She would much rather read or work problems.

“I don’t hate math.”

Jackie looked surprised. “You don’t?”

“Not really. Algebra’s really easy.”

Jackie looked at her like she had two heads. “ _Really?”_ she asked, aghast. “ _Algebra?”_

“Uh huh. I’m actually bored in that class.” Andrea shrugged.

“…Because it’s too easy.”

“Yup.” She paused. “But it’s better than auto or shop.”

Jackie snorted and dropped into the seat next to Andrea. “Too afraid you’d break a nail?”

The blonde gave her a withering look. “No, I’m just not good with my hands. It’s got nothing to do with my nails.”

 “Yeah, yeah, okay.” She at least had the decency to look at bit embarrassed by her assumption. Andrea liked that about Jackie—it was easy to tell what she was feeling, or when she was not telling the whole truth.

Andrea watched as Jack looked around the room, which was still empty besides them. There was a fresh bandage over her eyebrow. Andrea recalled their run it at the drugstore and its marked absence there. She wondered if the bandage, much like the dress and cardigan, had been foisted upon Jackie against her will. Jackie never really looked comfortable at school, but when Andrea had seen her at the drugstore, she had been at ease and almost charming. The only major change was the dress.

“Hey!” Jackie suddenly exclaimed, and turned back in her seat to Andrea with a giant grin on her face. “You know, I’ve almost got enough for my truck?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Another two weekends pay should be enough.”

How long had Jackie been saving up for this truck? It seemed like a while, if she was this excited for it. Andrea remembered how ecstatic her eldest brother had been when he’d finally bought his first beater. He’d driven that thing everywhere. She smiled softly at the thought of Jackie being that happy—she needed the happiness more than most.

“Do you know what you want?” Andrea asked. She knew little about cars, or trucks for that matter, but she wanted to be supportive.

“Oh yeah. One of the guys at the races said he’d sell me his old one.”

“Oh. Cool.”

“It’s a 1960 Ford F100. Rusted as hell already, but it’s got a six cylinder engine and a manual transmission.” Jackie grinned and leaned back in her chair. “I’m gonna fix it up real nice. You wanna know what the best thing about a truck is?”

Andrea hadn’t the foggiest, so she bit for Jackie. “What?”

“The bed. Good for haulin’, good for the drive in, good for campin’…so much shit you can do with the back of a truck.”

“The drive in?”

“Oh yeah! You fill the bed up with blankets and pillows and put the tailgate down and it’s like having a giant bed!” Jackie stretched her arms out to the ceiling, nearly smacking Andrea in the face in the process. “It’s gonna be _boss_.”

Andrea could not help but smile at Jackie’s enthusiasm. “If you say so.”

“We’ll go when I get my truck,” Jackie promised, and drummed her fingers on her desk in rapid staccato. “You know that new movie, _The Jungle Book?_ It’ll be out next week. Or _Cool Hand Luke_! That’s out in November.”

“Might be too cold for the drive in in November,” Andrea mused softly, but she felt herself being drawn in by Jackie’s enthusiasm. She rarely went to the drive in anymore—her friends had always wanted to go to the air conditioned movie hall.

“We’ll just bring extra blankets! And hot water bottles. It’ll be great.”

Andrea opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by the five minute bell. All down the hall locker doors suddenly slammed and people started to trail in to the classroom.

Jackie sighed. “Better get to my seat.”

“Yeah, you’d better.”

Jackie made a face and got up. Her desk was in the back; she threw herself into it with nothing short of a huff, and leaned back into it with her arms crossed. Her joviality and good nature were gone; all that was left was a scowl.

.

.

.

“Hey, chink!”

Andrea’s head snapped up at the slur. Normally she would not have been so attuned, but now that she knew it was hurled at Jackie, she was particularly sensitive to it. There was a loud slap, and she saw books and papers scatter across the floor accompanied by jeering.

 One of the football players had book checked Jackie outside of her locker. He muscled up in front of her. “Welcome back, chink.”

“Fuck off,” Jackie snarled, not intimidated in the slightest. He might have been twice her height and weight, but Andrea knew now how scrappy Jackie could be.

Andrea would have averted her eyes to such a scene, but she couldn’t stop watching Jackie. She stood defiant, her things forgotten on the floor. No, they weren’t forgotten—Jackie was not taking her eyes off the bully. She must have been waiting for the inevitable swing.

Instead, the football player slammed Jackie back into the locker. Andrea glanced along the hallway; there were teachers in the hallway, but none of them were paying the scene any attention. On purpose, probably. Her blood boiled.

“Hey!” Andrea said sharply, her voice cutting through the noise of the hallway. “Leave her alone!”

The football player glanced her way then rolled her eyes. “Fuck off, dyke.”

“Say that to her again,” Jackie growled, and shoved against the football player. He barely moved an inch. “I fucking dare you.”

“Jackie, don’t.”

“What? You got a problem with it? She your girlfriend now, _dyke_? Are you two _faggots?_ ”

Jackie’s nostrils flared. The guy feinted towards her. They were starting to draw a crowd.

“Hey!” That was the voice of one of the vice principals. “Break it up and get to where you’re going!”

The siren call of the upcoming fight shattered. Slowly, the group began to disintegrate. The football player shoved Jackie one more time, then sauntered off with his buddies.

Andrea went over to Jackie, who was rolling out her shoulders, and set a gentle hand on arm. “C’mon, Jackie, forget about them. Let’s go eat lunch.”

“I could fuck them up,” she said defiantly as she stared after their retreating backs.

“I’m sure you could.” Andrea was sure Jackie could, actually, but it would only get her suspended again. She didn’t want that. She knelt down to pick up Jackie’s books from the ground. “Do you buy or bring?”

“Bring. It’s in my locker.” Jackie got the last few papers off the floor, then went and fiddled with the combination on her lock. Her tongue poked out as she focused on the three numbers; it disappeared as the lock clicked, and she tugged it hard to undo the lock. “Ma’s pissed at me, but not pissed enough to not pack lunch.”

Andrea smiled softly. “That’s nice.” The bell rang signaling the start of the period, and the beginning of lunch. “Where do you want to eat?”

“Let’s go outside.”

Andrea was agreeable to that. “Front courtyard?”

“Mmm.”

“Okay. I have to get my lunch, too.”

They made a pit stop at Andrea’s locker down the hall. Jackie leans against the bank of lockers as Andrea undid her own. She picked out the cloth bag in which her mother had lovingly packed a bologna sandwich, an apple, and carrot sticks, then closed it with a little metallic thud.

“Ready?”

“Mm.”

Jackie smiled and pushed off the locker; the move was incongruous in her dress and Mary Janes. “Let’s go.”

The halls were mostly quiet; only stragglers like themselves were out. They pushed through the front doors into the courtyard. It was a beautiful day, and some of other students of the same lunch period milled around by the picnic tables set up for outdoor lunches. Andrea started for the only empty table, but Jackie grabbed her back.

She turned to look at her, confused. “What?”

Jackie’s features were oddly somber. She nodded at the large oak tree shading the corner of the courtyard. It was a private little nook, away from the bustle, but still in the sun. “Let’s go sit over there.”

“But I don’t want to sit on the grass.”

_“Please?”_

The look on her face was so desperate that Andrea found herself agreeing. They walked over to the tree with their lunches; Jackie unbuttoned her cardigan and spread it on the ground. “Here, so you don’t stain your dress.”

“But what about _your_ dress?”

“Eh, my ma’s used to it.”

“Well…thank you, then.” Andrea settled down on the cardigan; it protected her from the prinkle-y grass, which crushed gently under her weight. Jackie sprawled next to her without a care in the world and started unpacking her lunch.

Andrea unpacked hers as well, and took a bite of her bologna sandwich. The wind rustled the leaves above their heads and she looked back across the courtyard to the other students. It was strange to be eating outside but not at the tables…but it was nicer outside than it was in the library. The

She was glad she had Jackie. It was less lonely.

“Hey, want half?”

She looked over; Jackie proffered up half of what looked like a tuna fish sandwich, but doused in cayenne pepper. “Um…what is it?”

“It’s my ma’s homemade kimchi mixed with chicken salad.” She paused, and suddenly looked nervous. “You uh, ever had kimchi before?”

Andrea shook her head.

“Oh. It’s a Korean thing,” Jackie explained, slightly earnestly. “It’s like…spicy cabbage. I like it. You wanna try?”

Andrea shrugged. Why not? If Jackie was her new friend, she might as well try something new. “Okay, I’ll try it. I don’t have anything special to trade. Just bologna and cheese.”

“Hey, I never get straight bologna and cheese. All the bologna in my house is fried. Hand it over.”

They traded sandwich halves. Jackie bit into her new sandwich half with gusto. Andrea did the same, and then immediately regretted it. Her mouth felt like it was on fire. She swallowed and then scrambled for her water; it did not do much to help the burning on her tongue. She took a bite of the bologna—that helped a bit. She chewed slowly.

Jackie watched her with concern in her dark eyes. “You okay?”

Andrea swallowed. Her eyes streamed a little bit and she wiped the tears away. “It’s just….really spicy?”

“Is it?” Jackie looked down at the offending sandwich half in question. “This is nothing.”

“You must have a tongue of steel.”

Jackie waggled her eyebrows and stuck out her tongue, then froze. Her face got stormy, and she looked down at her lunch.

“What is it?” Andrea asked, not understanding her sudden shift in demeanor.

“… It’s nothing.”

“It’s obviously something,” Andrea pressed with some concern. “You can tell me.”

Jackie sighed. “I’m just…sorry I got you into this mess. I’m sorry you’ve gotten drawn into this shit.”

“You keep saying that,” Andrea scolded, but was gentle about it. “It’s fine, I promise. I made my bed, I’ll lie in it.”

“Yeah, but you don’t deserve to get called a dyke and a faggot just for sticking up for me,” Jackie said with a sigh. “Especially because…” She trailed off and stared off across the courtyard. “Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t regret it,” the blonde told her. “They can call me whatever they want. It won’t stop me from being a good person.”

Jackie looked over and smiled shyly. “Thanks.” She paused and considered her sandwich. “Anyway, how was _Algebra Two_?”

Andrea smiled despite herself. The way Jackie’s voice deepened and changed accents when she mocked the class name was funny. “It was Algebra Two.”

“Just Algebra Two?”

 Andrea shrugged. There wasn’t much to tell. The lesson had been simple, she had done all of her work and doodled in her notebook the rest of class. She suspected Jackie was just trying to be friendly—so she tried to be friendly, too, and asked after her class. “Yeah, sorry. …How was auto?”

Jackie light up. “Great!” We worked on a motorcycle engine. A 1950 Triumph Thunderbird.”

“That’s cool. None of them in there give you any trouble?”

“Nah. They ain’t squares.” Jackie stuffed the rest of the tuna fish sandwich in her mouth and licked the mayonnaise off her thumb. “Lot of them race, too.”

More talk of racing. Andrea wrinkled her nose. “Why do you do that, anyway? Street race?”

“I don’t race,” Jackie corrected, “I just fix the engines and stuff. Well, usually.”

“Usually?”

“Sometimes it’s fun to go a bit fast, get a bit of wind in your hair.” Andrea watched as she took a big bite of food. “They don’t want me racin’, though. Not really cuz I’m a girl, just cuz I’m a kid. Which is stupid.”

“But you _are_ a kid!”

Jackie wrinkled her nose. “Old enough to work at a factory, but not old enough to race. I just wanna have fun.”

“Isn’t there some _other_ way you can have fun?” Andrea asked, exasperatedly. “Somethin’ that doesn’t involve _something illegal_?”

“Let me put it this way.” Jackie gestured pointedly at her lunch mate with her sandwich. “Nobody wants a chink on their sports team, but nobody cares at the races if they’ve got one fixing their engine. They just care that the engine is runnin’ hot and ready.”

Andrea sighed and set her sandwich down on the wrapper. “I guess I just could never do anything illegal like that.”

Jackie shrugged. “Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do to survive. I need the money and it’s fun, so why not?”

The blonde fussed with her fingers. Why was this bothering her so much? Maybe she just didn’t want Jackie to get in trouble. She had enough trouble in her life as it was. “So what happens if you get caught?”

Jackie scoffed. “I won’t get caught.”

“But what happens if you do?”

She stared at her for a long moment. The intensity in her eyes made Andrea uncomfortable. “I’m just a grease monkey. I’m not doing any of the real racing, or any of the betting. I’m not really doing anything illegal, okay? It’s just for fun.”

“Well I thought you said needed the money.”

“I do.” Jackie’s voice was short, and it was clear she was getting irritable at Andrea’s constant probing and pushing back against her ideology. Andrea decided it was time to drop the subject. She would not get anywhere with Jackie like this; she was stubborn and very clearly would not change her mind.

“Okay, fine. But why are you taking Auto if you already know how to do all this stuff?”

Jackie instantly relaxed at the change in subject; it was clear from the way her shoulders dropped and her scowl disappeared. She leaned back against the tree and her cheeky grin returned. “Easy A, duh. Which I need, cuz my grades are shit.”

 _‘Maybe your grades wouldn’t be shitty if you didn’t blow off schoolwork to race,’_ Andrea thought, but kept it to herself. She did not want to fight with Jackie—she was her only ally at school. And she liked Jackie, she really did. She was nice, and funny, and loyal.

There was a shriek from across the courtyard. Both Jackie and Andrea looked up to see that some of the boys had finished their lunches and were teasing a group of girls. One had been grabbed and horsed around by one of the boys.

“God, look at ‘em,” Jackie drawled derisively, “jackwagons, the lot of them. I’m surprised they’re leaving us alone.”

Andrea realized with a start the reason Jackie had wanted to sit by the tree was she wanted them to be left alone. If they had been seated at the table she had started to go for at the beginning of lunch period, they would most likely have been the target of the boys’ harassment. Jackie had been looking out for hers when she had guided her towards the tree, away from their classmates. They had to look out for each other.

She felt a sudden rush of gratitude for the girl lounging beside her. She rarely had anyone, besides her brothers, look out for her, and they did it in such a way that it pissed her off more than it made her feel grateful. Jackie was just trying to protect both of them.

“Hey, Jackie?”

Jackie looked over at her. “Hm?”

“There’s a record coming out that I want on Friday.” Andrea paused, let the implication sink it. “Do you wanna go to the record store with me after school then come over to my house?”

Jackie lit up. “Sure, I like going there.” A moment passed and her excitement faltered. “What about detention? I don’t really _wanna_ go, but Mr. Simmons’ll fuck us over if we skip.”

“…Oh.” Andrea had forgotten, momentarily, that she still had another week to serve. She licked her lips nervously. “After detention, then? We should have enough time to get down there and buy it. You can come over for dinner if you want?”

“Will your parents be okay with that?” Jackie asked, nervously.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve got three brothers, so Momma always makes a lot. Another mouth to feed is no big deal.”

“Okay, sounds like fun. Let’s do it!”

* * *

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Friday came, and Andrea was antsy to get to the record store. Jackie kept looking at her all through detention. Andrea was supposed to be doing her homework or studying as they sat in the detention hall, they both were; however, Andrea was far more taken with watching Jackie fold and crinkle tiny bits of paper into balls and flick them across the room at unsuspecting victims. She ducked her head and tried to hide her smile when Jackie hit the detention proctor in the back of the head.

He whirled around, angry, but Jackie was a master of the poker face in the face of trouble. It was the only time Andrea has seen her able to control the emotions that usually ran riotously across her features at all other times of the day.

“That was mean of you,” Andrea chided later, after detention, as they walked down the hallway to their lockers to put away their books.

“Was it?” Jackie asked, impish grin firmly in place. “You were smilin’.”

Andrea rolled her eyes.

Jackie went to open her locker; she shoved away her papers and notebooks and grabbed her bag. “I’m gonna go change, okay? See you at your locker.”

Andrea nodded. Jackie disappeared into the women’s room. She suspected Jackie was going to change out of her dress and into pants. Indeed, five minutes later, Jackie emerged wearing a casual sweater and bellbottoms, but it was a large upgrade from her grease-stained factory jumpsuit. Andrea thought she looked nice.

“Ready to split?” Jackie asked cheerfully.

Andrea nodded. “Uh huh.”

“Let’s go!.”

The two headed out of the school and turned left up York to head downtown. Their walk took them through the residential neighborhood near the school. Kids were playing out on the front yards, tossing balls and roughhousing and doing whatever else it was that elementary school kids did to burn off excess energy. The sound of their merriment mixed with the rustle of tree leaves above them as the warm summer breezes passed through.

Jackie ambled along beside Andrea, hands in her pockets and bag slung casually over one shoulder. About ten minutes into their walk she turned to her and asked, “So what’s the record you wanna get?”

“Oh. The Arlo Guthrie disc. You know the guy who wrote Alice’s Restaurant?”

Jackie stared at her blankly.

“You know,” Andrea prompted. “It’s that new protest song that’s goes _‘You can get anything you want at Alice’s Restaurant?_ ’”

“Um…” Jackie looked a bit embarrassed. “I don’t listen to much music. We don’t gotta record player and all I hear is stuff that’s on the radio. But I’ve been workin’ so much recently I haven’t even heard that stuff.”

“Oh,” Andrea said softly. “That’s okay. It’s just a good song, you know? And he’s released his first album, so I want to buy the record.”

Jackie hummed her understanding.

“We can listen to it when we go to my place.”

“Okay.” Jackie was quiet, but after a moment offered up, “I’m… I’ve liked the Beatles songs that have been on the radio?”

Andrea brightened. Finally something they could relate to together. “I _love_ the Beatles!”

“Yeah?” Jackie asked, and her face split into the first full grin of the day that Andrea had seen.

They chatted amicably about the Beatles the rest of the way to the store. Well, Andrea did most of the talking—Jackie did a lot of nodding and agreeing. It was the first time since they’d started hanging out that Jackie had been the quiet one. When they finally got to the store, Jackie went ahead and grabbed the door handle; she held it open for Andrea.

“Thanks.”

Jackie smiled at her and followed in after her. The store was big but narrow, filled from front to back with crates and stands filled with records. Andrea knew the store layout by heart and made a beeline for the new releases. Jackie trailed after her, taking her time looking at the décor. Old records hung from the ceiling by wires, and others decorated the walls in creative patterns with album colors and chalk. Music of the hippie rock variety floated out of stereos hidden somewhere in the mess.

“I’ve never been in here before,” Jackie said when she finally caught up with Andrea by the stand full of new records. “It’s cool.”

“I love it here,” Andrea pulled away from where she was browsing. “All of my babysittin’ money goes to records.”

The other girl laughed.

“I’m gonna look around a bit.”

Jackie nodded. “Okay. I saw some buttons over there.”

“Oh, yeah! Check them out, they have a lot.”

Jackie smiled and wandered off towards the cache of buttons. Andrea browsed through the rock CDs for a little bit longer until she felt a looming figure beside her.

“Findin’ everything alright, Andrea?”

Andrea looked up to find the towering form of William, the store manager. He was a tall reed of a man, the age of her eldest brother but (in her opinion) much nicer. He was clean cut at his mother’s insistence and gave her discounts on Tuesday. He always smiled at her.

“Hi, William. I’m doin’ okay.”

“See you got the new Guthrie album,” he said, and nodded at the record under her arm. “It’s good, you’ll like it.”

Andrea beamed. “I’m excited to listen to it! I’m just glad there were still copies when I got here.”

“Saved one special just for you,” he told her with a joking twinkle in his eye. Then he looked across the store, to where Jackie was poking through the bins of buttons by the register.  “Who’s your friend?”

 “Oh, that’s Jackie. She’s a friend from school.”

William frowned a bit, but it soon passed. “Well, take your time. We close up in twenty.”

“I know, I won’t take too much longer.”

After a few more seconds of browsing, Andrea wandered over to where Jackie was. “Find anythin’?”

Jackie smiled and nodded. Andrea noticed she had a few buttons cradled in her hand as she picked through the others. “I think this is it.”

“Let me see?”

Jackie extended her hand to show the buttons she had collected. “Help me pick? I can only afford one.”

Andrea tilted her head and looked. Jackie had picked out three anti-Vietnam buttons. She glanced at the price; twenty cents a button, three for forty-five. A bit steep, but she knew the store made its own, and some of the proceeds went to efforts to halt the war. “It’s okay, Jackie. I’ll get them for you.”

“What—oh, no, you don’t gotta—”

“But I want to,” Andrea said with a smile, and scraped the three buttons out of her hand before she could protest more. “Save your money for your truck.”

Jackie’s eyes widened, but she smiled beatifically. “Thanks.”

“Besides, I want to support the anti-war effort,” Andrea said as she took the buttons and the record to the counter.

William stepped up to the register and looked over the buttons and record. “That’ll be it for today, Andrea?”

“Uh huh.” Andrea reached into her bag and pulled out her purse as William rung up the purchase.

“Seven dollars and six cents.”

Andrea frowned. That math didn’t add up. “I don’t think that’s right.”

“What do you mean?”

“The record is six twenty five and the buttons are three for forty-five. That’s six seventy. Sales tax is three percent, which is twenty cents. So it should be six ninety.” Andrea paused and did another set of quick calculations. “You didn’t give me the three for forty-five discount.”

William scowled. Jackie looked like Christmas had come early. “Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, it happens.”

William canceled the transaction and redid it. “There. Six ninety.”

Andrea smiled and handed over a five and a two dollar bill.

The register dinged as William opened it and pulled out a dime. He handed it over with a poorly disguised scowl. “Ten’s your change. You need a bag?”

“No, I’m fine.” The blonde smiled and deposited the dime into the change tin. “Have a good night, William. I’ll see you soon.”

“Evenin’.”

Jackie was out the door first, and Andrea joined her out in the cooling evening air. "Here’s your buttons.”

“Thanks.” Jackie took them quietly and tucked them into her bag, then slung it over her shoulder without her usual energy. “Where to next?”

“My house? It’s not too far.”

“Alright.”

Andrea looked over at her; Jackie was far too solemn and quiet. She frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’,” Jack said, and stuffed her hands in her pockets. “Let’s go.”

“Okay…my house is this way.”

Jackie nodded and followed after her. It was a busy evening; cars whooshed by on the streets, engines revving at standstill red lights to show off. The air was full of the smell of the restaurant kitchens cooking and the sound of chatter as people and their dates took in the late September weather.

They passed a couple of their schoolmates on the sidewalk; most of them sneered at the sight of the two walking together. Andrea squared her shoulders as she heard the not-quite-whispered slurs and jeers start up behind them.

“Well, sounds like rumor mill will be turning strong on Monday,” Jackie said sardonically.

“I don’t understand why they can’t just leave well enough alone,” Andrea said with a sigh. “They don’t even know you—ugh! Hey, watch it!”

A man that passed them going the other way had hocked a wad of chaw and spit at their feet as he went by. It had splattered all over Andrea’s shoes and socks. She whirled around to give the man a piece of her mind, but Jack grabbed her by the bicep and steered her firmly forward. “Don’t give them the satisfaction.”

“That was _disgusting_.”

“Welcome to my every day,” the other girl grumbled. Once they were a safe distance away, she dropped Andrea’s arm, then turned back and scowled down the street. “I can’t wait to get out of this fucking town.”

Andrea made a soft noise and shifted the record under her arm. “Where’re you gonna go?”

Jackie shrugged and stuffed her hands back in her pockets. “I dunno. Anywhere but here.”

 “Aren’t they just as racist in the North?”

“It’s…different, from what I’ve heard,” Jackie said slowly. “Still there, just…I don’t know how to explain it. It’s still bad.”

“Oh.”

Jackie shrugged and didn’t take her eyes off the sidewalk. Andrea looked down, too. It was cracked in some places, but still relatively sound. It reminded her of Jackie—broken, attacked from all side, but somehow still tough and resilient and holding it together despite the daily poundings she got. The grass that poked through the space between the curb and the sidewalk slabs were Jackie’s smile; seemingly random and in between, but easy to spot once you started looking.

Jackie sighed, and the noise brought Andrea out of her daydreaming. “Why’d you give him the change?”

Andrea blinked, confused by the non sequitur. “Sorry?”

“That dickhead back at the record shop. You gave ‘im the change.”

Andrea frowned. “William?”

“Yeah.”

“Well…” Andrea chewed on her lip. “It was only a dime. It was a simple mistake.”

“You really think it was a mistake?” Jackie asked incredulously and perhaps a tad bit bitterly.

Andrea looked over at her sharply. “You think he did it on purpose?”

Jackie shrugged and looked off at the street, deliberately not making eye contact with her. “Lots of ways to punish someone for being friends with chink besides callin’ them slurs and spittin’ at their feet.”

“That’s awful!” Andrea protested. “William wouldn’t do that!”

“You didn’t see the way he looked at me.”

Andrea swallowed. She had noticed William frowning, but she had thought it was because of his mistake at the register. Was it really because he did not like Jackie?

“Everyone always acts barely civil, but they way they treat you when nobody’s lookin’ is the real teller,” Jackie said bitterly and kicked a rock on the sidewalk with more force that strictly necessary. “That’s everyone in this fuckin’ town. I hate Gastonia.”

Andrea swallowed past the sudden, awful lump in her throat. “You know….you know I’m not like that, right?”

“…I’m not worried about you.”

The realization arrested Andrea mid-step, so much so that she stopped in place.

Jackie realized a few steps later that Andrea was no longer with her and stopped, turned, saw her standing there. “What?” 

“You’re worried about my family, aren’t you?”

Jackie swallowed. Her arm came up, like she meant to reach out and touch her, but then she hesitated. There was fear in her eyes, Andrea discovered, when she looked close enough.

“Jackie, I promise none of them are like that. You work with my brothers, you know.”

Jackie stared at the ground, not meeting her eyes. “Ain’t you listenin’? Just ‘cuz someone don’t call me a chink to my face don’t mean they don’t say it behind my back.”

She was talking about everyone, but Andrea knew the meaning was deeper.  She was thinking about how it applied to her family, and more specifically, to Andrea. Nausea rose in her stomach as she realized exactly what she was implying. Jackie was nice to her, friendly even, but that did not necessarily mean she trusted her.

“Jackie…I….I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“There’s nothing _to_ say,” she mumbled petulantly, and toed at a tuft of grass growing in the nearest sidewalk crack. “I’m just…letting you know.”

“That you don’t trust me?”

Jackie shook her head. “That I might want to trust you.” She paused. “Maybe too much.”

Andrea frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothin’,” Jackie sighed, and stuffed her hands back in her pockets. “Forget I said it.”

“Okay…”

“Can we hurry this up? I’m really hungry.”

Andrea knew it wasn’t _nothing_ , but she also knew Jackie had just cracked open her armor, however briefly, to show her the vulnerable girl underneath. The viewing was over, and Jackie was tetchy. She let it rest, for now.

“We’re almost there. C’mon, my momma is makin’ meatloaf.”

Jackie smiled hesitantly, and followed after Andrea when she started off down the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments help me get through finals relatively unscathed :') Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

“Momma, I’m home! And Jackie’s with me!”

Andrea barged through the door of her house without even pausing to take off her shoes. Jackie trailed after her, pausing nervously in the mudroom to glance at the shoes. Andrea did not notice, she was already in the kitchen saying hi to her mother.

Her mother was not happy to see her, and whirled on her with a spoon in hand. “Andrea Lynn Duvaul! Have you lost your mind?”

Andrea balked; Jackie froze in the doorway of the mudroom, shoes half off.

“Take your shoes off this instant!” Mrs. Duvaul chided. “You’ll get dirt all of the linoleum, and I just mopped. You turn yourself right around and take them off. Your friend has the idea and she doesn’t even live here!”

Andrea look suitably cowed. “Sorry, Momma.”

Andrea’s mother, who looked just like her (short, blonde hair, blue eyes, and a softly pointed face), pointed militantly at the mudroom with her wooden spoon. Andrea slunk back towards Jackie to take off her shoes. Jackie tried to school her features into something solemn and failed miserably; Andrea scowled at her.

“You’re Jackie, right?”

Andrea’s mother had turned her attention towards her. Jackie nodded quickly. “Yes, ma’am.”

The older woman gave her a once over. Jackie watched carefully for any flicker of disapproval but found nothing. “You stayin’ for dinner?”

“Yes ma’am, if that’s okay.”

“Of course. The more the merrier!”

Jackie smiled hesitantly, still not sure she trusted this accepting family. “Can I help in any way?”

“No, hun, Andrea’ll get it. You just siddown. Can I get you anythin’? Water? Lemonade?”

“No, ma’am, but thank you,” Jackie said quickly to head Andrea’s mother off from the icebox.

Andrea took that moment to return back into the room proper. “I’ll be back down in a second, Momma. Gonna take my record upstairs. C’mon, Jackie, lemme show you my room.”

Jackie followed her obediently out of the kitchen and into the shag-carpeted hallway, then up the up the stairs. Andrea’s room was the first on the left. The walls were painted a pale, pale pink and absolutely covered in posters, most of them for bands Jackie had never listened to. There were several posters of The Beatles, and several handmade collages that Andrea had clearly made herself.

“You weren’t kiddin’,” Jackie said as Andrea took her record to put it on a small set of shelves full of similar sleeves. A portable turn player and a radio sat on top of the shelf, and Jackie watched as Andrea set the record sleeve on top of the closed turn table lid. “You really do like music.”

Andrea looked bashful. “A little bit.”

“You don’t play any instruments or anythin’, do ya?”

“Nope. I just like to listen.” Andrea set her bag down next to a small wooden desk and turned back to Jackie. “C’mon, Momma’ll tan my hide and send you home after dinner if we don’t back get downstairs.”

Jackie dipped her head in acknowledgement and dropped her bag on the floor, then followed the other girl out of her room and back down the stairs. “Are you sure there ain’t anythin’ I can do to help?”

Andrea glanced back at her with a soft little smile, and Jackie resisted a little whimper. She already knew she would follow that smile into Hell and back…and Andrea had no clue as to why. “If you really wanna help, Momma might let you set the table. But you’re a guest.”

“An imposin’ guest.”

“No such thing,” Andrea drawled as they re-entered the kitchen. Her mother was still at the stove, stirring vegetables in a pot. So much different than, and yet exactly the same as, Jackie’s own mother, who reigned her own postage stamp sized kitchen with an iron wok and a wicked sharp knife. “Hey, Momma, Jackie’s feelin’ guilty. Can she help me set the table?”

“If she insists.”

Andrea’s smile was bright, and she all but dragged Jackie into the adjoining dining room. She showed her the cabinet where they kept all of their cutlery and dishes. “Good silver’n china is on the left. We’re gonna be using this other stuff.”

Jackie’s head bobbled like a toy, and she diligently took a fistful of forks. “How many’m I settin’ for?”

“Well, there’s you and me, my parents, and my brothers. So seven.”

Jackie nodded and set about laying out the place settings. She could feel Andrea watching her out of the corner of her eye; she didn’t like it. Well, she might like it, if she was actually doing something important, but right now she was just setting the table and it made her feel a little bit more than awkward.

“Where’re your brothers?” Jackie asked as she returned for the cloth napkins, dark plum and well starched, that Andrea had folded perfectly in half.

“Probably messin’ around out back. They only come in after Momma calls them for dinner.”

“They don’t help out?” Andrea shook her head. “Why?”

Andrea gave a little noncommittal shrug, but Jackie could tell with the way they settled there was irritation she was not necessarily conveying. “They’re tired after work an’ need to blow off some steam, I guess.”

Jackie did not think that was right, or fair, but the Duvaul’s were being kind enough to feed her, so she pressed her lips together and kept her mouth shut. So far, at least, the mother had not tossed her out. She did not want to push her luck.

.

.

.

Overall dinner was a decent, if slightly bland affair. The meatloaf, in Jackie’s humble opinion, lacked taste, and the vegetables had been boiled within an inch of her life. This was, however, how most Americans outside her family ate, as she understood it.

She wondered how they lived.

Jackie was familiar was Andrea’s three brothers—she saw them on her mechanic rounds at the factory, and they worked some of the same shifts—but her mother and father were foreign entities. They were pleasant, cautious, asked the usual polite banalities. Where did she live? (Jenkin Heights.) How was school? (Horrendous and she hated it, but she lied and said it was okay.) What was her favorite classes? (Shop and auto, to their surprise.) What did her parents do? (Her mother was a cleaning lady and her father was a mechanic.) Was she religious? (No, she wasn’t, which derailed Andrea’s pastor father into a discussion about God and faith.)

Jackie was very, very glad once dinner was over and Andrea’s mother shooed her and Andrea away upstairs to her room.

“Was that so bad?” Andrea asked as she went over to the record player.

Jackie shrugged and stood in the middle of the room. She dug her toes into the plush shag carpet. “It was okay until the last part.”

Andrea giggled as she opened the turn table and oh so carefully set the record she had bought at the store up to play. “Sorry, that’s just how Daddy is. He means well.” She put the needle on the record, then turned around. “You can sit down, you know.”

“Where?”

“The bed, stupid.”

Jackie rolled her eyes and settled on the bed. Andrea sat on the floor, and together they listened to the Guthrie album.

“Whaja think?” Andrea asked, as the record ended and the needle lifted and returned to its proper place.

“I liked it,” Jackie replied, from where she had ended up sprawled on her stomach, chin propped in one hand. “Did that one song, the protest one? Did they play that on the radio?”

Andrea nodded. “It was really popular. Still is.”

“I also liked the motorcycle song. But it was too slow to play on the radio, so I doubt I’ll ever hear it outta this room.”

“Well, you should get a record player then,” Andrea said with an encouraging smile.

“Well, when they pay chinks the same as they do everyone else, I’ll consider it.”

Andrea’s pretty face contorted into a frown. Jackie was distracted by the way her lips pouted. “Why do you call yourself that, Jackie?”

Jackie shook herself out of her staring. “What?”

“The…” Andrea paused, clearly struggling with herself. “The c word.”

“Chink?”

Andrea wrinkled her nose, and although it was in disgust, Jackie could not help it think it was cute. “Yes. It’s a slur. A nasty one. Why do you call yourself that?”

 “Well…” Jackie sighed and rolled over on the bed; her pigtails flopped over the edge of the bed to hand by either side of her head. She saw Andrea smile softly at her antics. “It’s mostly ‘cuz if I call myself that it…it’s hard to explain. But it takes the sting outta it when other people use it. Y’know?”

“Um…not really.”

Jackie frowned and tried to think of another way to explain it. “Well…I guess it’s like. People can call me a chink an’ stuff cuz they know it’ll hurt me, cuz it’s like you said. It’s a slur. But if I call myself a chink, I like…take the power away from them. If I…I dunno, take that word from them and use it for me, they can’t use it to hurt me anymore, cuz I already use it to describe myself.”

“Oh. That makes sense, I guess.”

Jackie smiled at her upsidedownly. “Just my way of tellin’ them to go fuck themselves, I guess. I’m a chink, and I’m proud.”

“Where’s your family from, anyway?”

“Korea and the Philippians.”

Andrea tilted her head to the side; her curls flopped much like the way a dogs ears would, which made her look like a confused golden retrieved. “How’d they end up here?”

“Lookin’ for work, just like everyone else.” Jackie’s expression was a bit sour. “So how’d _your_ family get here? Where are _they_ from?”

Andrea frowned. “Well…I don’t really know. I know we emigrated here after the American Revolution but I don’t…exactly know how we got to Gastonia. I guess because Daddy got sent here by the church.”

Jackie flopped back over and gave her a serious look. “Okay. But do you get how that question you asked me is a bit racist?”

Andrea’s brow furrowed in worry. “It was racist? How?”

Jackie sighed, and dropped her head down on the corner of the mattress. “White people don’t go around asking white people _where they’re from_ and _how they got here_. They only ask brown people that.”

“Oh.” Andrea’s features lifted in dawning comprehension. “Oh, I guess you’re right.” She paused, and a soft blush flushed up into her cheeks. “I’m sorry I asked that.”

“S’long as you know.”

Andrea hesitated for a second, unsure what to say. Jackie watched as she seemed to run the gamut in emotions—confused, embarrassed, understanding. Finally she settled on something akin to grateful, and quickly after that she murmured, “Thank you for teaching me.”

Jackie shrugged. “Somebody had to.”

“But it didn’t have to be you.”

“You see any other brown people gonna teach you? Our town’n schools are still basically segregated, fer chrissake. Nah, it had to be me.”

Andrea bit her lip and looked away; Jackie could tell she was clearly uncomfortable. Good. Jackie was slowly starting to consider Andrea as something like a friend, but even friends had to learn things that made them uncomfortable. Friends made each other better, or that is at least what she understood.  

“’Sides, I owe you for the buttons.”

“I told you, you don’t owe me anythin’.”

Jackie stuck her tongue out at her. “I’ll owe you when I say I owe you. But now I don’t.”

The blonde rolled her eyes and rolled to her feet. “Okay, Stubborn Susan, whatever makes you happy.”

Jackie watched her get up with interest from her position on the bed. “Where ya goin’?”

“I wanna show you something.”

“Uh…okay.”

“Get off the bed.”

Bemused, Jackie did as was requested of her. Andrea lifted the full-sized mattress in an impressive show of strength—Jackie did not think Andrea would have it in her. In an impressive show of dexterity, Andrea twisted and pulled a folder of papers out from under the bed.

“When I saw you got those pins at the record store, I thought you might like to see my collection,” Andrea said brightly as she let the mattress drop and handed Jackie the folder.

Jackie reached out and took it. It fell open in her hands to display the contents; a modest collection of anti-Vietnam paraphernalia. Clippings from the newspaper, carefully folded anti-war posters, photographs and diagrams Andrea had collected from god knows where. There was even a stray button or two.

“Woah, right on. This is pretty righteous.” Jackie flipped through the folder to inspect the contents. She carefully fingered each and every clipping, read their titles. “You’ve been collectin’ for a while.”

“I haven’t been a fan of the war from the beginning. Momma don’t like the fact I’ve got this stuff, which is why it’s under the mattress.”

Jackie flicked her eyes up from a poster she had unfolded to look at Andrea. “Didn’t take you for the anti-war type, but I guess it makes sense.”

A touch of color appeared in Andrea’s cheeks as she appeared to bristle. “What’s that supposed to me?”

Jackie shrugged; truthfully, at first she had thought Andrea was just another blonde-haired, blue-eyed privileged cheerleader who propped up those who bullied. Her opinions had changed severely in the past few weeks. “You’re a fighter, just like me.”

That made Andrea smile. “We don’t like bullies. Or bigots. Or anybody else who spreads pain and hate.”

Jackie nodded with solemn conviction. “And that’s the damn truth.”

She tried to school her face into a serious expression, but she was a victim to her emotions. The way her face split into a smile at the joy of having someone by her side fighting the bigotry and hate she experienced every day was too much to hide. That smile radiated at Andrea naturally broke the serious moment between them.

Andrea giggled, and her smile widened. She pulled her back to sit on the bed, and together they looked quietly over the contents of her collection until Jackie had to go home.


	5. Chapter 5

Jackie got her truck.

It was a beater, a 1960 Ford 100 that, even though it was only seven years old, had already seen better days. There were rust spots all over that stained the seafoam paint job, and the paint was badly peeling on the roof. The driver’s side door stuck half the time; it had to be either wrenched or kicked open depending on whether one was trying to go in or out.

Jackie loved it anyway.

Andrea left for school the second Monday in October and found the truck parked at the curb outside her house. Jackie was seated in the driver’s seat and grinned at her out of the rolled down passenger-side window.

“Wanna ride?”

Andrea light up with a large smile and ran over to the truck; she barely noticed the crisp fall air or the wet dew grass that sunk into her Mary Janes and soaked her socks. “Jackie, it looks great!”

Jackie’s grin, if possible, got even larger. She banged on the side of the truck, a loud hollow sound. “Get in!”

Andrea did so. The truck’s leather seats were soft but cracked, and Jackie had clearly already oiled it. The other girl started it up; it coughed as it turned over, but then roared loudly as Jackie stepped on the accelerator.

“Good girl,” Jackie murmured as the engine finally settled into a purr. She patted the dashboard affectionately, then put the truck into gear and pulled away from the gear.

“When’d you get her?” Andrea asked as they chugged along towards the school.

“Saturday night,” Jackie preened, and rubbed her thumb against the steering wheel proudly. “Got a big fat wad of scratch at the races Friday night, and the dude sold it to me the next day after work.”

Andrea frowned, as she normally did when Jackie mentioned her illegal street racing habit, but did not make a comment on it. It was too early in the day to make Jackie sore with her. “She’s great. But it looks like gonna need some work.”

“Yeah I know,” Jackie said brightly as she stopped at the corner, checked down the road, and then turned right down towards the school. “The guy didn’t take care of her at all, which pisses me off. Guy races all the time but doesn’t take care of his damn truck, then gets upset when it starts fallin’ apart on him.”

Andrea made a sympathetic noise. Jackie, excited about the prospect of her new baby, continued to speak. “I washed and waxed her as soon as I got her, but I’m gonna have to sand out the rust and repaint her as soon as I get enough bread.”

“What color are you gonna repaint her?”

“Some kinda blue. Maybe turquoise!” Jackie looked over at her, obviously keen for her opinion. “What do you think?”

“Turquoise would be pretty. I kind of like this blue-green it has now.”

Jackie nodded and pulled into the turn lane into their school; they waited behind several other cars that were also turning into the school’s parking lot. “I like the seafoam, too. Who knows, maybe I’ll keep it?”

Andrea smiled. They finally got their turn and Jackie pulled smoothly across the street, parking them neatly in a space towards the back of the student lot. She was a good driver for only being sixteen, Andrea thought as she rolled up her window. She wondered when her birthday was.

“August third,” Jackie replied.

Oh, she had asked that aloud.

Jackie tried her door, frowned when it didn’t open, and heaved her weight at it. It opened with a groaning creak and nearly deposited her on the asphalt. She had to grab the steering wheel to keep from falling.

“You okay?” Andrea asked as Jackie righted herself with a grunt.

“I’m fine,” she snapped. She was clearly embarrassed, which was a new experience for Andrea. She’d never seen Jackie flustered. It was almost cute how she blushed, although it was less of a flush and more of a glow. “When’s _you’re_ birthday?”

“February 28th,” Andrea replied primly as she swung from the truck cab and closed the door behind her.

“Good to know.” Jackie got out and shoved her door closed. She locked the truck, and together the two of them walked through the parking lot towards the back of the school. Jackie ran up to the back doors, old steel painted green and flaking horribly, and held it open for Andrea.

“Thank you,” If Jackie were a boy, Andrea might have kissed her on the cheek for the show of gallantry. As such, she simply smiled sweetly and passed through, Jackie let the door fall closed behind them.

.

.

.

They met in the courtyard to eat lunch, and ate under the tree as had become their habit. With colder weather approaching, it was only a matter of time before they would be confined to the library for their meals (neither of them wanted to chance the cafeteria), so they took full advantage of the weakening fall light. The sun had dried the dew since morning, and the afternoon had warmed up considerably, but Jackie still put her jacket down on the grass so Andrea would not get grass stains on her dress.

They shared a tuna fish sandwich, half each, and pieces of a roll of rice, vegetables, and egg Jackie had called ‘gimbap.’ Andrea had tried more new foods in the month she had become friends with Jackie than she had in her entire life. After the first one she tried, she turned to Jackie with sparkles in her eyes.

“Jackie, these are sooo good!”

Jackie laughed, and her eyes crinkled up happily as she did so. “I’ll tell my Ma you said so. She’ll be thrilled that a white-y likes her cooking.”

“I’ve liked everything we’ve shared,” Andrea replied genially, “even when it’s spicy.”

Jackie really did have a nice smile, and she seemed to smile more with Andrea than she did with most other people. Andrea felt lucky.

“I’ll have to bring you leftovers when we do barbeque. Or Tteok-bokki. Even though it won’t be as good cold.”

“Well, maybe one day I can come over for dinner?” Andrea thought this was a great idea. She would love to meet Jackie’s parents, see her house, see her room, see Jackie completely at home.

Jackie clearly did not think the same. Her expression grew cloudy at the suggestion, her thick, expressive eyebrows knitting into a severe frown. “No.”  

“Oh.” Andrea could not keep the hurt out of her voice. She had really hoped to meet Jackie’s family.

“It’s not you,” Jackie said quickly, guilt written all over her face. She reached out towards her, then obviously thought better of it, because she picked up a slice of gim-bap and rolled it between her forefinger and thumb. “My parents, especially my Ma…they don’t trust white folk. The way they’ve been treated in this town, the way they watched others bein’ treated…”

“I get it,” Andrea said softly.

“They treat us like baby killers, ‘n all we’ve done is fucking exist. Da gets his locker broken into all the time, and Ma gets her tips stolen, when she gets any at all.” Jackie leaned forward, and glared at their classmates across the green. “The whole fucking world all can burn, s’far as we’re concerned. Better off without ‘em.”

Andrea sucked her teeth. “I get it, Jackie but not everyone is a horrible person.”

Jackie grunted.

“Am I a horrible person?”

“Nah.”

“Is my family horrible?”

Jackie shrugged. “Not yet.”

Well, that was as close as Andrea was going to get, probably. She plowed on. “There you have it. And there are other people like me, you know. Some people just follow other people. And some people are just too scared to take a stand on either side.”

“You’re too nice.” Jackie’s words were boarding on nasty, but her glance over at Andrea and the accompanying smile was soft.

Andrea bristled. “I’m not naïve.”

“I didn’t say that. I just said you’re too nice.”

“Well, you know what they say. Sometimes the nicest people are the most broken ones.”

“But you aren’t broken,” Jackie drawled, and there was a hidden note of pain just at the end of it. The way Jackie obviously just kept her voice from breaking.

“No….but you are.” Andrea felt her stiffen beside her. She swallowed, pushed past her own fear, and confronted Jackie on the one thing about her that drove her crazy. “Why not chose kindness instead of bitterness? I know you’re capable of it.”

Jackie was saved from replying by the loud t-r-r-r-i-i-i-i-n-n-n-n-n-g five minute warning bell. She hurriedly stood up and crunched up her trash. It was loud in the sudden deafening silence between them.

“We ain’t close enough yet for you to be talkin’ to me like that,” Jackie said harshly. “I don’t care who you think you are.”

Andrea started to apologize but Jackie went to toss her trash and disappeared across the courtyard. Andrea watched her take the stairs two at a time and disappear into the double doors of the school. She felt her heart clench and a deep knot of guilt settle at the base of her neck.

She did not mean to upset her; she just wanted her to be better. Jackie was too good of a person to be as bitter as she was all the time. Now she would have to apologize. Or, better yet, Jackie would apologize for being a jerk. She supposed she should be upset, at the way Jackie had treated her, but she knew she had the high ground.

She sighed and packed up her lunch, then stood. With a start, she realized Jackie had left her jacket. She picked it up, ran her fingers across the worn denim. Across the courtyard, students were streaming inside. She balled the jacket up under her arm and hurried up the stairs so she would not be late.

As she put Jackie’s jacket in her locker, and got her books out for the second half of the day, she realized that despite Jackie’s ire at being called out, that she had said ‘yet’ in her retort.

She still wanted to be friends. She wanted to be closer. Perhaps there was hope for her after all.

.

.

.

Jackie did not wait for Andrea; she left at the end of the school day without her. Andrea tried not to be hurt as she walked home by herself.

The next morning, Andrea left early from home and waited in the student parking lot for Jackie to pull in. Her truck rattled in a little past seven in the morning, just after then fifteen minute bell has rung. Andrea made a beeline for her as soon as she forced her way out of the driver’s side door.

“You forgot your jacket,” Andrea said, as soon as Jackie had struggled to slam the door closed.

Jackie jumped at the sound of her voice and whirled around. Andrea crossed her arms over her chest and stared at her defiantly. Jackie immediately looked guilty. It was an incongruous a look on her as the yellow and red checked dress she was wearing.

“It’s in my locker,” Andre continued. “I’ll bring it to you at home room.”

“Okay,” Jackie replied. She seemed incredibly uncomfortable; Andrea could read it in her hunched shoulders and the way she could not quite make eye contact with her. She decided to cut her some slack.

“Did you still want to go to the movies?” She paused. “The drive in? In your truck now that you have it?”

Jackie eyes widened at the olive branch. “Y-Yeah. Yeah! Yeah, sure.”

Andrea smiled and turned towards the school building; Jackie fell into step beside her. As they walked Andrea continued, “I thought we might see _The Jungle Book._ That’s out now at the drive in and it looks fun.”

Jackie nodded earnestly. “That sounds great. Can you go out on school nights?”

“I can probably convince my parents…” Andrea eyed her suspiciously. Was Jackie going to be busy all weekend?

“I work Friday night and all day Saturday and Sunday,” she confirmed apologetically. “I can go Wednesday or Thursday night.”

“I’d prefer Thursday night.”

Jackie beamed. “Thursday night it is! We’re gonna need a lotta pillows and blankets. Do you have hot water bottles? It might get chilly.”

“We might have a couple,” Andrea said brightly. She was starting to get excited about the prospect of the trip. “I can ask my mom!”

Jackie held the door for Andrea and said as she passed through, “I’ll pick you up tomorrow and you can update me then. Don’t forget!”

“I won’t forget, Jackie,” Andrea promised as they headed for their lockers. “I won’t forget.”

.

.

.

After dinner, they loaded up the back of Jackie’s truck with pillows and blankets and a few coveted hot water bottles wrapped in towels for the seven o’clock show. They were sent with strict instructions from Jackie’s father to be back by ten, which neither of them thought would be a problem. They set off to the Tower drive in in high spirits; it was a nice night, not yet too cold, so they ran the entire way there with the windows down. By the time they pulled onto the long gravel-and-dirt driveway that lead into the main parking area, it was nearly dark.

Three-quarters of the way up the drive, they encountered the line for tickets. Jackie drummed her fingers on the steering wheel as they inched slowly forward; Andrea fished through her purse for her money. Andrea passed it to Jackie as they approached the ticket booth.

“Thanks.”

The girl in the ticket booth was a classmate of theirs. She did not look happy to see them, and popped her gum rudely before drawling out “Three bucks,” in the most condescending tone possible.

Jackie, stone faced, handed her the money. The drive-in girl lip curled as she accepted it and tucked the bills and quarters into her apron.

“Enjoy the movie, dykes.”

Andrea sank back into her seat. Jackie flipped her the bird, then stepped on the gas. As they shot forward, with a grind of gears and a spray of gravel from the tires, Andrea pressed her lips together and looked out across the field of cars. Just once, just _once,_ she’d like to go out with Jackie without someone thinking they were dating. They were just friends, two girls against the world…or, at least, two girls against Gastonia.

Another high school student, one Andrea knew only by face and not by name, directed them into a spot. Jackie caused a bit of a hold up as she pulled forward, then carefully backed her truck in so the bed faced the giant projection screen. As she threw the truck into park and rolled up her window she said,

“You want cheese fries? I want cheese fries.”

Andrea blinked at Jackie’s nonchalant behavior. “I…you aren’t bothered?”

Jackie shrugged. “I’m more bothered for cheese fries. You want some?”

“Um…no? We just ate dinner!”

“There’s always room for cheese fries,” Jackie proclaimed as she shut up the engine and pushed her door open. “You set up the back and get comfy. I’ll be right back!”

In a blink, and a heavy thud of the driver’s side door, Jackie was gone, leaving Andrea alone with the truck. She left the cab and put down the tailgate, then climbed into the bed to begin arranging. They had packed four comforters—three to sit on, and one to sit under as the movie played. She set the blankets up, and was arranging the pillows when an attendant came buy with the speaker.

“Well this is a nice set up,” he said as he slotted the radio over the sidewall. “How long’d it take to convince your boyfriend to do it?”

Andrea was a bit thrown. She didn’t recognize the man; he wasn’t that old, obvious late twenties or early thirties. Most importantly, if she didn’t know him, he didn’t know who she was, which meant he didn’t know she had arrived with Jackie, and the whole story around that. She felt a rush of relief.

“Oh..uh…not much. Not much convincing. It was… _his_ idea.”

“Not shit. Well you got yourself a keeper then,” the man laughed, and pointed at the speaker. “On switch is on the side, the dial turns it up and down. Dirt simple.”

“Dirt simple,” Andrea parroted.

“And since you’re here with your boyfriend, I gotta warn you, we catch anybody giving this place the ‘passion pit’ label the boot, so keep your hands to yourself.”

Andrea could feel her face heating up—she was glad it was dark, otherwise she was certain she would have been bright, bright red. “O-of course, we would never!”

“That’s what they all say,” the guy said with a wink. “Enjoy the movie, sweetheart.”

Then he ambled off.

A few minutes later, Jackie arrived, clutching a giant order of cheese fries and a milkshake. She looked over the truck bed with excitement in her features. “Wow, Andrea, this looks great! Way better than I thought it was gonna be. Can you hold these so I can climb up?”

Andrea dutifully reached over the edge and took them so Jackie could haul her short little body into the bed of the truck.

“How can you drink this?” Andrea asked as Jackie got settled among the blankets and pillows, “It’s getting cold.”

“It’s not the drive in without a milkshake,” was all Jackie said, spreading the comforter over her legs before making grabby hands up at Andrea. “Gimmie.”

Carefully, Andrea passed them down and joined Jackie under the blanket. “If you get cheese on my momma’s comforter, she’ll murder me.”

“I ain’t gonna get cheese on ‘em,” Jackie said as she carefully nestled her milkshake in between her legs, then picked up a whizz-covered fry. “I’ll be careful.”

“You ain’t even got napkins!”

“I said I’ll be careful!” She held up the paper container full of fries between them like a peace offering. The fries were covered in cheese, but Jackie had also doctored them with salt, pepper, and a swizzle of catsup. “You want some?”

Andrea looked between the fries and Jackie’s puppy dog eyes. After a bit of internal debate, she took a fry. Jackie cheered as Andrea carefully cupped her hand under the fry until it was safely ensconced in her mouth.

“You want some of the milkshake, too? It’s chocolate.”

Andrea shook her head.

“Nah? Oh, right, I forget. You’re a strawberry kinda girl.” Jackie sucked on the straw of her milkshake to prove her point. “More for me. Although you can have more fries if you want.”

Andrea shook her head again. Jackie shrugged in a ‘suit yourself’ kind of way and continued to alternate eating her cheese fries (carefully, she held the tray very close to her mouth) and sipping her milkshake. Finally, the screen blinked on with the cartoons, and Andrea leaned over to turn on their radio and adjust the volume dial.

“Oh yeah, this is the life,” Jackie murmured as the beginning music started to play. She settled back with a sigh of contentment, slowly munching on the remains of her cheese fries the movie began. Andrea settled in, too, content with the entertainment and Jackie’s body beside her; she ran so warm they didn’t need the hot water bottles the entire movie.

.

.

.

The movie ended at nine, and they had to wait for the fields to clear out before they could leave.

“We should stay for one of the naughty pictures,” Jackie said gleefully, as an attendant came to the collect the radio.

“Ew, no,” Andrea giggled and gave her a bit of a shove. “Besides, they don’t show those on Thursdays.”

Jackie rolled her eyes, but made no further comment. Then attendant was different than the man who had made the boyfriend reference. He collected the radio of the side of the truck and ambled off to the next car without a word about the two of them. They lay in the bed of the truck, too lazy to move.

“Can’t believe we have to go to school tomorrow,” Jackie grumbled as they stared at the sky. The stars were out, but in the town lights they were dimmer than they ought to be. “I just wanna stay out here all night.”

“That sounds nice,” Andrea said with a sigh, “but I have a test review tomorrow I can’t miss.”

“Boo,” Jackie hissed, but glanced over at her and grinned with teeth to show she was just teasing. “Also, pretty sure your Daddy wanted you home by ten.”

Andrea sighed. “Yeah, he did.”

“Kinda wanna go star gazing now, though,” Jackie said, as she turned her attentions back heavens ward. “Maybe I’ll go out after I take you home and sit in a field or something for a while.”

Andrea frowned. “What about school tomorrow?”

Jackie shrugged. “Just have to skip I guess.”

“You can’t do that!” She was aghast by the very idea. “Besides, you’d freeze to death. I have to take everythin’ back inside when I get home.”

Jackie looked over at her and raised on eyebrow; she had very expressive eyebrows, and it was times like these that she used them to great effect. “And why can’t I skip?”

“What about your grades?!”

Jackie laughed.

Andrea realized how stupid that had sounded; Jackie did not care a single bit about her grades, and both of them knew it. Harping about them to her was pointless. She struggled for something to argue for, and realized that her real issues was that she did not want to be at school alone without Jackie. She felt safer with her at her side.

After a long moment of silence, in which they stared at the sky and listened to the sound of car engines starting and tires crunching in the field, Andrea finally told her so. Jackie blinked in surprise, but then nodded.

“Okay. Okay, I won’t skip. I’ll go to class for you.”

Andrea smiled softly. For Jackie to go to school _for_ her was probably the highest honor she could be bestowed. “Thank you…”

“No problem.” They fell silent and watched the stars until the sounds of the drive-in exodus faded. Jackie sat up and looked around; the field was mostly empty. “Looks like we can head out.”

“Okay.” They sat up and started to fold up their stuff; as soon as they took off the blanket it became clear how cold it had gotten over the course of the evening. Andrea shivered as the cold sunk through the cotton of her jeans, and she rushed to get everything cleaned up and folded neatly in the back before hurrying out of the bed and into the cab.

She checked her watch as Jackie slammed the tailgate shut; almost nine thirty. Andrea shivered as Jackie joined her in the truck and started the engine. The cab was chilly, and even though Andrea had worn a heavier coat, she was still cold. Jackie noticed her shivering and reached forward to solicitously adjust the vents so warm engine air could blow directly on her.

“Thank you,” Andrea murmured, and buried down deeper into her coat.

Jackie hummed, then cupped her hands and blew into them to warm them up. Andrea could hear the quiet rasp of the calluses as she rubbed her hands together afterwards. She fiddled with the radio as the truck warmed up, and once she found a country station she liked, Jackie shifted them into gear and pulled out. They crunched down the drive-in driveway, and Andrea found that she was being lulled to sleep by the warmth of the cab, and gentle movement of the truck, and the soft croon of the late night country song on the radio.

“Doin’ okay?” Jackie asked as they drove along Main Street towards Andrea’s house.

“Mmm.”

“You sound real powerful there.”

“Mmmmmm.”

Jackie chuckled and shook her head. Andrea contented herself to close her eyes and drift off; it wasn’t a long ride, after all.

Fifteen minutes later, Jackie turned onto Andrea’s street and pulled alongside the curb in front of her house. She shook Andrea firmly by the shoulder to wake her up. “Hey, sleepyhead. We’re here.”

The blonde blinked slowly awake and looked around blearily. Her mother had left the light on in the mudroom; it glowed like a small, warm beacon against the cold darkness of the house. She yawned cavernously, just barely covering her mouth in time.

“Mmm. Thanks, Jackie.”

“You look beat.” There was some measure of concern in her voice. “Go to bed, we’ll unload all the stuff out of the back tomorrow after school.”

“Oka—” Andrea’s response was interrupted by a second yawn. “Mmm, okay.” Andrea stretched and rolled her neck out, then she dug around in her pocket for her house key. “Thanks, Jackie. This was fun.”

Jackie smiled. “Yeah, it was. Thanks for comin’.”

Andrea smiled back. “See you tomorrow.”

“See ya tomorrow.”

Andrea got out of the truck and closed then door, then trundled up her front walk and unlocked the mudroom. The door unlocked and she stepped inside; as she took off her shoes, she heard Jackie start up the truck and pull away from the curb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, everyone :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY got this chapter finished. Y'all already know my excuses. Enjoy :)

Jackie loved her.

She had been pretty sure after they hung out in her bedroom after dinner, talked about life, looked at her anti-war collection, but the drive-in had clinched it.

She had never been in love before, so she had nothing to compare it to, but all signs pointed to a case of lovesickness: Andrea’s smile made her stomach flip flop in ways it didn’t for anybody else. Her laugh made her heart ache in all the best ways. She wanted nothing more than to do things with her, to do things with her, to be close with her, because Andrea made her happy.

Yes, Jackie Eun-Li was in love with Andrea Duvaul.

At first she thought it might have just been a misguided crush; an overabundance of gratitude that manifested itself in an overenthusiastic attachment. But then at the drive through Jackie had wanted nothing more to cuddle up to Andrea in the bed of her truck and hold her hand under the comforter. Her world would have been complete just to know the soft, warm press of the outside of Andrea’s thigh against her own as they sat in that drive-in parking lot.

She had it _bad._

And goddamit, Andrea Duvaul had to be a girl.

Jackie had known, suspected for quite some time, that she was different. Boys had never interested her the way they had captivated her female peers. She’d much rather have rough and tumbled with the boys or worked to strip an engine with them in the shop than stare at them, or grosser yet, daydream of kissing them. The thought of that made her stomach turn.

Still, she had sort of hoped it was a fluke, that she just had yet to meet the right boy. A good Korean or Filipino boy, the kind her parents had been pushing on her at church, when she went. She hadn’t been in months—work, getting enough money to buy her truck, had consumed all of her Sundays, so she rarely got to interact with the boys of her parent’s dreams, and she _certainly_ wasn’t going to make eyes at the white boys at school.

And then Andrea Duvaul had come into her life, fighting mad and ready to raise hell, and Jackie had fallen ass over tea kettle.

She was strangely at peace with it. She had become quite comfortable with being a deviant; she certainly did not conform to the gender norms, and she was a staunch activist. Being gay was just another line in her deviance chart.

No, her problem was that Andrea was anything _but_ deviant. She got her panties in a twist when Jackie _skipped school,_ for fucks sake. Vagrancy seemed to be at the same level of moral ineptitude for Andrea as street racing. God forbid she kill someone. She couldn’t even imagine how Andrea would react if she discovered that Jackie preferred the company of woman—specifically Andrea, if Jackie could have her way.

The thought of losing her was devastating. Jackie was used to being alone, had been for years, but Andrea’s friendship over two short months had softened her. It had been so nice, _so nice_ , to have someone to hang out with on the weekends after work. Someone to talk to. Someone to sing along to the radio with on the way home from school. Someone to get milkshakes with. Someone to sit with on the curb and discuss life’s issues.

Jackie did not want to lose that. She was not certain she could survive it if Andrea reacted badly to her burgeoning sexuality, especially with it directed at her superficially.

Jackie loved Andrea. Which is probably why she had driven to Charlotte after work in the middle of December to get Andrea the signed Arlo Guthrie record she had seen advertised in the paper.

The record store was small, independent, and lively; most important, it was owned by a person of color. Jackie had checked the store in the Green Book on a whim and, to her immense surprise, found it there. While it was not necessarily a foolproof method, she had found over the years she was less likely to be discriminated again at black establishments than at white ones.

The door bells tinkled happily as she hurried inside, aware it was almost to closing. Despite the hour there were half a dozen peoplein the store, and they all looked up to stare at her as she entered. Jack put on her best tough girl expression and strode up to the counter.

Her bravado was lost once the pretty girl behind the counter asked, “Welcome to Revolutionary Records, how can I help you?”

“Hi, um…” Jackie pushed her hands in the pockets of her coveralls. “I’m—uh—looking to pick up one of the signed Arlo Guthries.”

“Did you reserve one?”

Her head bobbled up and down as she nodded. “Uh huh. It’ll be under Eun-Li, Jacqueline.”

“Eun-Li?”

“Um…E-U-N dash L-I.”

The woman nodded pleasantly. “Give me one moment.” She disappeared out towards the back of the store; Jackie hung around and poked through the buttons. There were a couple of buttons that she liked, but the record was already going to be quite the expense. She would have to come back.

“Miss Eun-Li?” The woman behind the counter. She held up the plastic-wrapped label for Jackie to see the autograph scrawled against the front. “Is this to your liking?”

“”Yes, ma’am.”

“Would you like to pay for it now or continue to shop?”

Jackie immediately fished for her wallet. “Pay now, please.”

“Sure thing. Follow me up to the register and I’ll get you rung up.” Jackie did so and carefully wrote out a check for fifteen dollars, nearly two whole paychecks, in exchange for the record.  She passed it over.

The woman glanced down at it and frowned. “You need to sign it, sweetie.”

“Oops, sorry.” She passed the check back, and Jackie quickly scrawled her signature on the designated line.

“Thank you, hun.” The register lady took the check and slid it under the cash tray in the till. “Now, is this for you or someone else?”

“Someone else,” Jackie replied, shifting anxiously from foot to foot.

“Thought so.” You want it gift wrapped?”

She hesitated. “How much?”

The woman smiled warmly. “Free of charge.”

“Then yes. _Please._ I can’t wrap for shit.”

The woman laughed and plucked a roll of paper out from under the counter and quick as you please, wrapped the record. Jackie watched enviously as she cut, folded, and smoothed paper with narry an issue. Whenever she wrapped, her lines were jagged and the paper crumpled.

“Here you go, sweetie.”

Jackie cradled the record to her chest like a newborn baby. “Thank you.” She fished in her pocket and deposited two nickles in the tip jar. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, and thank you for your business.”

Jackie smiled at her, then ambled out of the shop and down the street. The streets were busy with people, going about their after-word business, but nobody looked at her twice in this mostly-black neighborhood. There was definitely a chill in the air—the thermometer had read at just above freezing when she had left for school that morning.

She unlocked her truck and forced the door open, then carefully tucked the record behind the seat for safe keeping. She pumped the gas pedal and turned the key in the ignition, and adjusted the heater as the engine turned over. It was still warm; heat spilled from the vents into the tiny cabin.

Jackie shrugged out of her coat. Time to get home before her Ma started to wonder where she was.

She punched on the radio, then put on her blinker and pulled away from the curb into traffic. She thought she remembered the way back well enough, and as her truck puttered down the road she hummed along to the radio. Despite the giant hole the record had burned in her wallet, she was happy with her purchase; she couldn’t wait to see Andrea’s face.

Four songs later, Jackie realized with a start she did not recognize the buildings on the street anymore.

Shit.

She slowed to a crawl and craned her head around, looking for landmarks; the old theatre she had turned at before was nowhere in sight. None of the other buildings, or the cars parked on the street, looked familiar either.

Fuck.

A honk from the car behind her startled her back into reality—she was driving on a road at rush hour. She pulled up to the next intersection and hung a U-turn to double back. She turned the radio down and squinted at the street signs, and then at the scrap of paper she had scribbled her directions on.

She passed under an overpass and continued down the street. Goddamit, where was she?

With a swear she pulled over onto a side street so she could check her map. She threw the car into park and leaned over to pop the glove box; as it sprung open to reveal emptiness, she realized with a sinking pit of dread she had left the map on the kitchen table.  

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

She leaned forward and pressed her head against the steering wheel. Her Ma was sure to find the map when she got home. Now not only was she lost, but she’d get her hide tanned for going to Charlotte when she got home, too.

Andrea really better like the record.

With a sigh, Jackie leaned back and surveyed the street. It was pretty desolate; not much was open, save for a bar down the street that she watched a white woman disappear into as she idled at the curb. Jackie cut the engine and zipped up her coat, then shoved out into the cold.

The bar was slightly ominous in the dimming winter light, nondescript with barred, covered windows and a single yellow light illuminating the recessed entrance. She pulled at the nondescript door and took a step inside, only to be met with a wall of cigarette smoke and a mountain of a man wearing a leather jacket and a scowl.

Jackie froze.

“You lost, kid?”

Not a man—a woman, by the sound of her voice. Jackie tried not to stare; she was stared at all the time, she knew it was rude. But this woman had short cropped hair and was wearing a man’s jacket. Something inside her stirred.

“I said you lost?” the woman graveled out as she towered above her.

“Um….kind of,” Jackie offered up with a sheepish little shrug. “I uh…I think I missed my turn, but I don’t know where I went wrong.”

The woman paused. “You need a map?”

Jackie nodded. “Yes, please. I just need to know how to get back out to the freeway.”

The woman looked her up and down for a second, as if judging her moral character. Then she uncrossed her arms grunted, “Stay here.”

Jackie stayed.

The woman turned back and disappeared into the bar.

The door to the door closed behind her and Jackie loitered anxiously just inside the doorstep. When the woman didn’t return immediately, she peered around the corner of the wall that blocked the rest of the bar from view, doing her best not to look truant. She had never been in a bar before. There were men and woman—no, more _women who looked like men_ and women!—scattered about, at the bar, bent over the pool table, at the small tables, probably about fifteen in all.

It was small and dim. The room smelled of alcohol and cheap cigarettes, and a tiny jukebox was sandwiched in the corner and playing the hits of the last two decades. The music mingled with the sound of conversation and the clatter of pool balls. Even though the bar was dark, Jackie swore she saw a woman lean in and kiss another firmly on the mouth.

“Hey! Stop gawkin’.”

Jackie started. The bouncer was back, a large roadmap of North Carolina under her arm. Jackie backed up into the vestibule and attempted to look contrite. “I’m sorry.”

The woman did not respond beyond slapping the map down on her stool and paging it open to their section of the map. “Where you goin’?”

“Gastonia.”

The woman glanced her way; Jackie flinched instinctively. The woman softened just a hair. “Gastonia? That’s what, 25 miles?”

Jackie nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“An’ how old are you?”

Jackie’s nostrils flare; she hated that question. It was the type of question that immediately preceded being told she could not do something. She crossed her arms defiantly over her chest. “Old enough.”

“Christ, kid.” The woman barked; she clearly saw through her bluff. When Jackie only tightened her arms, the woman rolled her eyes and pulled the flashlight off her belt to illuminate the map. “You’re a long way from home. Ain’t it a school night?”

Jackie bristled. “You gonna help me get home’re not?”

“Yeah, yeah. The hell are you doin’ in this part of Charlotte?”

She hesitated. “Well… I was pickin’ up a signed Arlo Guthrie from the record shop an…. comin’ back I got lost.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ve got the record in my truck if you want proof.”

Once again, Jackie found herself under the long, hard stare of the bouncer. After a second of scrutiny, Jackie squared her shoulders and stared back. The woman seemed to find this funny. She chuckled to herself and turned back to the map; her fingers drifted across the pages until she found what she was after.

“Look ‘ere.” Jackie leaned over so she could see the map. “This’s where we’re at. You’re gonna North on Church Street and get on 277 goin’ West. Take that until it becomes 74, okay? Then you take that all the way back to Gastonia.”

Jackie nodded and studied the map. “Shit, I was so close…” She pulled back and stuffed her hands in the pockets of her overalls. “Thank you. Really. I probably coulda driven around forever.”

The woman laughed. “You’re welcome, kid. Get home safe.”

She nodded again, and turned toward the door, then something stopped her. She turned back to the woman. “What is this place?”

The woman barked in laughter. “Can’t you read? It’s called Oasis.”

Jackie wrinkled her nose. “I know that. You know what I mean.”

The woman gave her a hard look. “What’s the name of your friend?”

“My friend?”

“The one you drove all the way to Charlotte on a Sunday in your work clothes to buy a fancy record for.”

Jackie blushed. “Andrea. Her name is Andrea.”

“Pretty special friend, Andrea.”

“She’s the best.” Jackie couldn’t help the slightly forlorn sound to her voice. Andrea really was the best. Far too good for her.

The woman nodded, as if she had decided something. “Well, if you’re actually legal, and around here again, c’mon back.”

Her heart stuttered. Was this woman really implying…?

“—your drink’ll be on the house,” the woman continued, then stuck out her hand. “The name’s Chris. If I ain’t at the door, tell ‘em I said you could come in.”

Jackie took it instantly and shook hard, like when she shook hands with men at the plant. Chris’s handshake was twice as firm as her own. “I’m Jackie.”

“Nice to meet you, Jackie. And good handshake, solid.”

“Thanks.”

Chris opened the door for her and Jackie saw herself out. Once she was back in the truck and firmly on the highway, Jackie smiled the whole way home.

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy what you read? Please consider leaving a comment. xo


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